Aberration
by Colleentj
Summary: "Strange. Too strange, and it ate at him for awhile. What was he doing, falling in love? Commanding officers didn't fall in love with their soldiers. Everyone knew that. " Adam/Samus; oneshot.


**Okay, so I know that Adam/Samus is for some reason an extreeeeeeemely unpopular (romantic) pairing and that most people hate it, but I honestly find the idea kind of compelling. Keep in mind that it was past midnight when I wrote this**

Adam liked her straight off the bat. Liked her because she had that snarky, childish side that both infuriated him and warmed his heart. She was special and she _knew _she was special, and she wasn't going to let him forget it. From the get-go she teased him, toyed with him; showed respect where it was due. But later, when the rest of the soldiers had retired to the squad bay, she would stay in his office for hours. Picking up books and picture frames and that stupid silver tool that bobbed up and down on his desk. Staring at the city through the window and rolling around in the swivel chair and stealing his hat and throwing it on top of the bookshelf so that he couldn't reach.

"You're a real child, you know that?" he had finally said.

She shrugged, gave the thumbs down, and wheeled away.

He could tell that it offended her, though. Time and time after that she would press her nose toward the ceiling and draw her lips into a snarl. She wanted to be an adult. She made it clear after awhile. But even when she marched in line she winked at him. She _liked _him. And he liked her.

The other soldiers adored her. She was the only woman there. What was she doing? Trying to prove herself? If so, she was doing a remarkable job. The other men didn't have half of the guts she had. And the _hair. _Cut like a boy's. What was she trying to say?

At first she was _the girl_, but after he got to know her, she became Samus. She really was one of the best. And he knew that _she _knew that she was his favorite, which was probably why she acted so gutsy in the first place. But good grief. _Really_. Did she _have _to tap on his shoulder in the way that would make him turn around as she paced in the opposite direction?

"That's a child's trick," he had told her. Needless to say, she had stopped after that.

He didn't know why he kept calling her a child. After awhile, it became apparent that she wasn't one. She was far too flirtatious for that. _Why _was she flirtatious again?

_Don't lose your head, Commander, _he told himself over and over. But she kept growing. A year, and then another, and it didn't take long. Yup, she was a woman. She looked like one and acted like one. She wasn't _the girl _anymore.

It became very difficult after he realized that she was an adult. Because at that point he had to reevaluate his definition of the name _Samus_, and _Samus _no longer meant _the snarky girl who plays with the paperweight and steals my hat. Samus _meant _the war-hardened woman who teases me with the paperweight and steals my heart. _And damn it, if that didn't change everything.

And she did tease him. Teased him because as the years went on, his composure slowly diminished in her presence. He never stuttered. He was proud of that. But he did stare when he thought she wasn't looking. He didn't notice. It just kind of happened, and _avert your eyes, Commander. Have some decency!_

"Deflowering son of a bitch," Ian had called him. Now what had inspired that? Adam had in no way deflowered anybody. But again, Ian was prone to making assumptions. Oh, Ian.

If only he'd known.

Ian, gone in the blink of an eye. At first he hadn't really registered it. Ian had been there, and then he'd been gone. But he'd be back, right? Ian always came back. Except he didn't come back for weeks, months, and then years. And finally Adam was forced to accept the truth that, no, Ian would not be returning after all. He was almost disappointed.

There were times when he wondered whether he should have let Samus attempt to save Ian. He would have, if any other soldier had offered. But it had been Samus, and she was dear to his heart in ways he couldn't explain. Not like a friend, and not like a daughter, and not like a lover. Dear to him. Spiritually, maybe. She was like another piece of him. The piece that warmed him when he felt cold.

He'd been frigid after losing Ian. It had been weeks since the incident before anyone had the guts to approach him. He pretended like nothing was wrong. Emotion was to be avoided in times like these; he had to keep his composure. Had to keep himself collected and trustworthy and god _damn it; _how did you control what you felt in times like these?!

"Let it out, Adam."

"Samus, I hardly think—"

"I said LET IT OUT!"

He wasn't the kind of man to cry. But he did sort of collapse into her. Good for her for supporting his weight; she held him like that. Gentle for once, he assumed. Because she _was _a woman. And women had that tendency to be gentle sometimes. And that wasn't a bad thing; not at all, no, because this was the girl who loved to cause trouble. This was the _thumbs-down _girl who ran into battle and blew spaceships to smithereens. But she was _gentle. _He had to admit that he'd never known anyone like her. She was soft in that moment. Warm. She thawed him.

After that, they were thick as thieves. He couldn't get the smell of her out of his head. Like leather. And he loved her, too. It was odd, though. _How _did he love her? Some days he felt oddly protective of her. Other days he merely valued his friendship. But then there were the bizarre and unpredictable days where she'd turn around and catch the light _just like that_. Maybe give some sort of smirk. A knowing smirk, though; her smirks were always knowing.

And that would be it. One of those smirks and the light on her hair and in her eyes and _yup_, there it was. Fluttering somewhere around his diaphragm. The heart? The stomach? Whatever hollow cavern resided there was filled. _Yup_. He was in love with her.

Strange. Too strange, and it ate at him for awhile. What was he_ doing_, falling in love? Commanding officers didn't fall in love with their soldiers. Everyone know that. Ian had jokingly warned him not to fall in love with Anthony during a weight-room inspection. Just a joke, that had been it. Right? But no. Because Ian had given him that look because even _he _knew in that moment that Adam wasn't there to inspect the weight room. Even then he'd been keeping his eye on Samus. And there she was in the corner, lifting weights. Counting out loud. She liked being noticed.

"_Don't fall in love," Ian teased, cuing an odd look from Adam._

"_He's talking about me," Anthony supplied._

"_Obviously," Ian returned. _

But they hadn't been. They'd known what they were talking about. They'd known it was about Samus.

And here she was again. Twirling the silver paperweight in her hand and looking him dead in the eye.

"Feeling better?" she inquired.

"No," he answered.

"I don't think you ever will."

"I'm afraid that I agree with you there."

She gave him that _look_. What _was _that look? Oh well. It was getting late, now. The sky was bathed in a deep, rich crimson. Sunset. And her hand—how callused but pink because she'd scrubbed it clean. On his. But why? When? How—

Close. Too close, way too close, _danger, danger, DANGER—_

"Samus."

She paused, hovering before him.

"Adam," she answered coolly, "I'm not a child, you know."

"I know that. I know that, of course I—I mean I—" _Screw it. _"You sure about this, Lady?"

"Who are you calling _lady?" _she breathed.

And then, the kiss. Just like that. Warm and smelling of leather as she wrapped her arms around him and leaned further into the desk. Warm and soft and was _this _the girl that had hidden his hat on top of the bookshelf?

When she pulled away, the fire stopped. He felt his face heat up. A relationship like this; what would people say? Reputations and positions of importance to maintain and _SCREW _all of that.

"No objections, I presume?" she teased.

"Life is short," he stated gruffly. "Now get back here."

And that had been it. Just like that. And he had to reevaluate his definition of _Samus_ once more. Because she wasn't a girl and she wasn't a woman. She was _him._ The other half. The completion. He'd never really believed in stuff like that until now. That was all stuff from fairytales. But it was real. Maybe fairytales were real, too. Maybe…

When possibilities seemed endless, they stopped cold. She said she had to leave the Federation. Never explained why. And he'd finally figured out how he loved her, too…

He supposed she didn't want to get attached to him. Not that he blamed her. He wouldn't want to be attached to himself, either. Not if he had the choice anyway. And yet he'd come to need her. He felt almost betrayed when she departed, and yet he couldn't bring himself to resent her retreating figure. He loved her too much. And he knew that their bond wasn't meant to be, anyway. She was still so young. She had potential; she had an entire life ahead of her. What a waste it would be for her to spend it on _him. _Not that he was that old, because he wasn't old. But in his mind he was old. He'd seen war and death and had lost everything. And now he was losing her.

He drew to himself after that. The office felt quiet without her clambering around. And the paperweight remained relatively undisturbed, which he supposed was at least good for the paperweight. But he still felt lonely. And he felt cold again.

He heard of her deeds. But she was so far, now. Far from him, on her own. He wondered often whether she'd fallen in love. There was no news of that, though a part of him wished that she had. Although the major part of him _craved _her; what agony! She must have known what she did to him when she left him. Must have known that she'd left him very, very empty. The cavern near his diaphragm hungered again. It hungered for love.

Very well, then, he thought at the announcement a new mission. He gathered his squadron, boarded a small shuttle, and was off. A "Bottle" ship, buried somewhere within the depths of the galaxy. What was there? At this point, he wasn't sure he cared. It was just another mission that he was dragging himself through. He felt so goddamned _drained _these days. He wasn't old. He was still a young man. But he felt aged far beyond his years. To die now… well, there would be no shame in that.

Descending the loading ramp into the major region of the ship hangar didn't feel any different than any other mission. If anything, it felt duller. Lock the ship. Scan for threats. Blast open walls. Hunt for survivors. The usual.

Imagine, then, the excitement. The suppressed smile, the swelling of the heart, the warmth that spread throughout his entire body as that figure broke through the smoke. The armor… just as he remembered it. And yet she seemed different. Her stature was different. Cold. Hardened. Shattered. A lot like him, too much like him. What had happened? He could see her face through the mask, and she was just as beautiful as he'd remembered. He bit his lip, lowered his guard. Advanced.

"What are _you _doing here?"

The words came out cold and forced, and he knew that she wouldn't receive them well. But she'd _betrayed _him. She'd left without so much as an explanation. And he felt anger and adoration all at once. _It was her it was her it was her it was really her. _After all this time, after _years _waiting and wishing and yearning, here she was, right in front of him. Cold like him and strong like him with a metallic shield over his emotions. And he realized with terror that this wasn't Samus, it was _his _Samus. The Samus that was because of the Adam that was.

And for the final time, Adam found himself reevaluating his definition of _Samus._

_Samus: The Result._

**Lol please don't despise me for this pairing. I just felt this need to make something out of it. Don't know why. I just **_**did. **_**Anyway, it's late here and I have finals, so please drop me some feedback, and we'll see what happens! Thanks for reading! :)**


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